


Everything Has Changed

by Sxymami0909, xtremeroswellian



Series: Weight Of The World [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles, Banshee Lydia Martin, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, F/M, Gen, Sassy Lydia, Scott is a Good Friend, Werewolf Hunters, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3460907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sxymami0909/pseuds/Sxymami0909, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles takes it upon himself to set the Argents straight about a few things meanwhile Lydia is looking for answers as Derek and Scott but heads on how Stiles should and shouldn’t create a pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Has Changed

Against his better judgment, he found himself standing on the doorstep of the Argent household the next morning. He’d spent the night at the Martin’s mansion because Lydia’s mom hadn’t made it back, and his dad was working. He wasn’t sure what to expect, really, but he was less nervous than he’d been the last time he’d been here. Then again, last time he was here, he hadn’t been an alpha. Not that it meant that much to him at this point. He just felt calmer now that he’d had a tiny bit of time to adjust to his non-human status.   
  
He rang the bell and waited, not fidgeting as he once would have.   
  
Chris looked away from Gerard who’d been teaching Victoria some kind of recipe thankful that he had a reason to leave the room. “I’ll grab that,” he said putting his water down and moving out of the kitchen before either of them could say anything. Chris wasn’t thrilled about his father being in town, but there wasn’t much he could do about it at the moment.   
  
He walked to the door and pulled it open, cocking his head to the side when he spotted Stiles Stilinski. Beacon Hill’s resident alpha apparently. “Well you’ve got a set of steel balls showing up here like this. What do you want?”   
  
Stiles might have smirked under other circumstances. Most people would’ve called him _stupid._ “Something happened last night and we need to talk about it,” he said without preamble.   
  
Chris glanced behind him into the house, his jaw clenching. He stepped outside closing the door behind him and crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at Stiles. “I don’t know what makes you think you can just come over here any time you want, but let me remind you who we are and what we do. We hunt werewolves and other supernatural things.” He motioned behind him, “Gerard doesn’t care if you’re only sixteen, Peter killed my sister and he’s out for blood, so unless you have a death wish, my advice, leave and don’t come back.”   
  
“And someone almost murdered Lydia Martin in the woods last night with an arrow after killing someone else and chopping them in half,” Stiles responded, voice just as hushed as he glared right back at Chris. “I’m here to _prevent_ more murder, not cause it.”   
  
Chris frowned, “What are you talking about?” He asked trying to think back to last night and see if he remembered what Stiles was talking about. He’d gone out for a bit, just to patrol the city mostly, but he hadn’t killed anyone and he wouldn’t have tried to shoot Lydia. She was his daughter’s best friend and they’d determined she wasn’t a wolf. But then why was she out in the woods? Chris pressed his lips together. “What was Lydia doing out in the woods?”   
  
“She went for a walk,” he responded evenly, not about to give him the rest of the truth on that one. “She had no idea about the kinds of things that are out there.” And he wasn’t just talking about _werewolves._ As far as he knew, there were now exactly three werewolves in Beacon Hills, and he was pretty confident that none of them would have done anything to Lydia.   
  
Chris arched an eyebrow, “Is that so?” He asked, “Because I don’t believe you. She just happened to be taking a walk in the middle of the night in the _woods_? And on top of that she stumbles on a dead werewolf?” Chris shook his head, “Maybe Lydia smelled him, maybe she isn’t as human as you’d have me believe, or as human as you had me thinking _you_ were.”   
  
“Okay, first of all, I said last night, not the middle of the night. Secondly, I never said the dead person was a werewolf,” Stiles pointed out, folding his arms across his chest. “So it kind of sounds like you might have more information yourself there, Mr. Argent. And thirdly, we already had the first full moon since Lydia was bitten. If she was a werewolf, don’t you think there probably would have been at least a single body out there somewhere considering her lack of knowledge about werewolves?”   
  
“Maybe you filled her in, told her what she needed to know. I wouldn’t put it past you. You hid what you were from me.” Chris pointed out, “And of course the body was a werewolf, you said it was cut in half, that’s something Gerard does. He wouldn’t do it to a human.”   
  
That all saved Stiles quite a bit of time. Thanks, Argent, he thought. He’d suspected the body was probably a werewolf, but now it was confirmed. And that Chris believed his own father was behind it. “I did,” he agreed with a nod. “It sort of felt like a self-protective thing, considering. But you’re forgetting a pretty major difference between me and Lydia.”   
  
“And what’s that?” Chris asked.   
  
“Werewolf bites heal when a person turns. Hers didn’t,” Stiles reminded him.   
  
Chris pursed his lips. They still had no idea why Lydia hadn’t turned and yet was still alive and he had to admit that it bugged him. It was unprecedented. Nothing like it had ever happened before. “Maybe hers was a delayed reaction. Who knows? We’re keeping an eye on her; maybe the hunter who was out there last night saw something you didn’t.” Chris suggested.   
  
“Or maybe the hunter who was out there was a little over-eager for his next kill,” he responded, voice taking on an annoyed edge to it.   
  
Chris’ glare was back. “What is it that you want Stiles?”   
  
“Believe it or not, I’m not your enemy here,” Stiles informed him matter-of-factly. “And I’d rather you not be mine. I have other things to worry about. Like graduating from high school. And I’d really kind of like it if none of my friends died, either. I’m pretty sure Allison will agree on that one.” He turned to head to his jeep.   
  
“You still don’t get it do you?” He called out. “We might not be enemies, but I’m not your protector either. Gerard doesn’t know about you or Scott, and the two of you are going to want to keep it that way.” He said pointedly. Chris didn’t want to see teenagers die when they hadn’t done anything wrong. “But he knows about Derek and he knows _something_ happened with Lydia. He’s going to keep his people watching her even if it is from afar, so I suggest you figure out what’s going on with her before we do.” He said with a stern face. “I might live by a code, but as it’s been brought to my attention recently, not everyone in my family does.”   
  
Stiles paused at that, turning to look at him once more. “I’m not asking you to be my protector. I’m asking you to keep an eye on your own hunters before more people end up dying for no reason.” His jaw tightened at the mention of Gerard’s people watching Lydia. “Then I guess you should hope that no one else in your family meets your sister’s fate for breaking that code.” His voice was flat. It wasn’t a threat, but it was the truth. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but if he had to choose between Scott and Derek and Lydia and any hunter on the planet...that hunter was going to have one pissed off werewolf to deal with. He unlocked his jeep and climbed back into the driver’s side, starting the engine without giving Chris a chance to respond.   


______

  
  
Lydia glanced at the clock on her dashboard and swore to herself as she pushed her foot down further on the pedal, turning into the school parking lot at speeds that probably weren’t safe. But at the moment Lydia wasn’t all too worried. She was late and not a little late either. It was halfway into first period and she couldn’t believe she’d slept so late.   
  
Stiles had been gone when she’d woken up, not that she was overly surprised. Lydia was still trying to wrap her head around that whole mess. She sighed as she pulled into an open spot and jerked her car to a stop. Lydia turned off the car and pulled down the small mirror so she could study her reflection.   
  
Her hair was curly and slightly mussed, probably even still a little damp from her quick shower. She wore a long sleeve shirt to hide the bandage on her arm and despite all the small cuts on her feet she was sporting a pair of blue heels that went with her gray and blue skirt. Lydia ran a finger over her lips smoothing the lip gloss there and then slapped the mirror back in place. She grabbed her purse, notebook and textbook, wincing at the weight of it against her sore arm before shoving her car door open.   
  
Lydia stepped out and pulled herself up, pausing momentarily to get her bearings. God her feet hurt. Heels had been the wrong idea, but if it’s one thing Lydia never let slip it was her image and if she’d shown up at school the way she wanted to today, heads would have rolled. She shut and locked the doors, tossed her keys in her bag, and pulled it over her shoulder before heading towards the school.   
  
Lydia had her gaze on her books as she moved forward not realizing she was about to knock into someone.   
  
Stiles was running late, too, but it wasn’t because he’d overslept. It was because he’d still had to go home after his brief conversation with Chris Argent. He’d taken the fastest shower known to mankind, grabbed a pair of jeans, an undershirt, a t-shirt, and a flannel shirt and tugged them on, forgetting his history book in his room. He contemplated going home to get it, but if push came to shove he’d just skip history.   
  
He was getting an ‘A’ anyway. Granted, if he kept missing class, that probably wouldn’t be the case.   
  
He crawled out of his jeep, shouldering his backpack even as he pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket, shooting Scott a quick text message. _Need to talk. Meet me after class -- lockers._ He looked up just in time to prevent Lydia from plowing right into him. He quickly reached out, one hand resting on her shoulder to stop the collision, but not quickly enough to stop him from dropping his phone. He grimaced as the screen shattered.   
  
Awesome.   
  
Lydia jumped startled by the hand on her shoulder and the sound of something hitting the ground. She glanced up and spotted Stiles her mouth opening briefly before she pressed her lips together and glanced at the ground. “Sorry, I didn’t see you,” she explained as she bent down, wincing slightly at the pressure it put on her feet. Lydia lifted Stiles’ phone from the ground and then straightened up. She held out the phone to him, “Sorry,” she said again not really sure how to act or what to say.   
  
He blinked a couple of times when she picked his phone up and handed it to him. “It’s okay,” he assured her, taking it from her. “Thanks.” He held his breath for a moment. “I guess we’re both kind of...running late.”   
  
Lydia nodded. “I guess, though I’m not really sure how you’re running late, you must have left my house early,” she commented as she shifted on her feet in front of him holding her books to her chest.   
  
Stiles winced as he tucked his phone into his pocket once more. “Yeah, I had a stop to make before I went home,” he admitted, voice dropping as he glanced around. “And we need to talk.” Unfortunately not in the fun way. In the _I’m sorry your life is in danger because of this supernatural crap you were dragged into_ kind of way.   
  
Lydia tilted her head to the side, brows furrowing, “What’s wrong?” She asked her voice just as soft as she shifted closer to him when she saw Stiles glance around them. It looked like he was looking for someone, but everyone was already in class, the place both of them should probably be.   
  
“Gerard Argent has people watching you,” he said softly, meeting her eyes. “According to Allison’s dad, he still suspects you’re a werewolf.”   
  
“Me?” Lydia’s voice was pitched higher than normal, “But I’m not. That doesn’t even make sense. I was bitten before the last full moon. If I were a,” she paused and glanced around, great now he had her doing it, “ _werewolf_ I would have turned on the full moon...right?” Lydia asked Stiles. “And obviously I didn’t so why do they think I’m a werewolf?”   
  
He grimaced. “Yeah, you would have,” he agreed. “But because I didn’t admit that _I_ was, Chris thinks that I’m probably just covering for you, too. Because the smart thing to do when you’re a werewolf is to out yourself to the first werewolf hunter you see.” He sighed, dragging a hand over his face. He was silent for a moment. “And because…” Stiles hesitated. “One of two things happens when you get bitten by a werewolf normally. You either become a werewolf or you reject the bite and...then you die.”   
  
Lydia blinked, “But...that can’t be the only things that happen,” she said. Stiles had to be wrong because she was alive and she wasn’t a werewolf.   
  
“You seem to be the anomaly,” he admitted softly.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard her chest tightening as her heartbeat picked up speed. “What does that mean?” She asked her tone calm even though she wasn’t despite her demeanor.   
  
“It means that...as far as I know you’re literally the only person who’s survived the bite of an alpha without turning,” he told her.   
  
Lydia frowned, “Yes, I gathered that. I meant what does that _mean_? Am I going to start randomly sprouting fur in odd places? Does this have anything to do with me ending up in the woods? Oh god...am I going to have a delayed reaction to the bite and turn into a werewolf at any moment?” Lydia sighed, “This news really doesn’t fill me with warm feelings.” Lydia told him.   
  
“Truthfully?” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Lydia. But...you’re not a werewolf.” That much he was certain about. “I’m sorry.” He paused. “I mean, I’m not sorry that you’re not a werewolf, I’m just...sorry.” He looked down.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Are you seriously apologizing for all this crazy that’s going on right now? Because as far as I know the only thing you’ve done so far is save my life, twice,” she pointed out, “And if you’re sorry about that, well I’m going to be highly offended since I definitely think my life is worth saving.” Lydia stated.   
  
“Your life is more than worth saving,” Stiles said without hesitation. Her life was worth more than his. “But...I’m sort of the reason you’ve been dragged _into_ the crazy, Lydia.” She had to know that much was the truth at least. “And that’s why I’m apologizing.”   
  
Lydia was silent for a minute as she studied Stiles’ expression. He seemed genuinely upset about getting her involved, if that’s even what happened. She let out a light huff and nodded, “Fine, you’re forgiven then.” Lydia told him simply. “I don’t blame you Stiles, I’m confused and I don’t like not knowing what’s going on, but that’s more on me than you.”   
  
“How is that on you?” he asked, shaking his head a little. “Because honestly...there’s a lot that I’m confused about too.”   
  
“I guess because I don’t like being in the dark?” Lydia said though it came out as more of a question. If she was more easy going maybe not having answers wouldn’t bother her so much, but that wasn’t in her nature. “I need to do some research, though where exactly does one start when most people think werewolves aren’t real,” she let her voice trail off. “I don’t know.” Lydia shifted back slightly switching her books to her other arm. “What are you confused about?”   
  
He wasn’t sure anyone liked being in the dark. Although if he could go back in time, he definitely wouldn’t have dragged his best friend out into the woods that night months ago to find a dead body. So maybe he did kind of prefer being in the dark. He watched as she shifted her books to her opposite arm, and he hesitated before reaching out and touching her injured one, focusing on the flickers of pain she was experiencing and drawing them out. When it was gone for the time being, he let his hand drop once more. “There’s a lot I still don’t know or understand,” he admitted softly. “About all of this.”   
  
The pain Lydia had been feeling since she woke up eased and she wondered briefly how the whole taking pain thing worked. “Aren’t you an...alpha though?” She asked her words quiet. Lydia had heard him use the word a few times and she’d seen the red glow of his eyes. Alpha pretty much equated to leader.   
  
Stiles looked down, exhaling. “Not intentionally,” he said with a forced, wry smile. “But it is what it is.” He glanced up at her again. “When you kill an alpha, you become an alpha. No one actually told me that and I wasn’t...actually planning on killing an alpha to begin with.”   
  
“Oh,” Lydia wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “I’m sorry,” she offered because judging by his tone, Stiles wasn’t all too happy about his new status. “So the new principal, Allison’s grandfather...how worried should I be about this guy?” And how worried did Stiles have to be? Lydia wondered.   
  
He met her eyes. “Try to stay close to Allison as much as you can,” he said quietly. “I haven’t heard good things.”   
  
Lydia glanced down for a minute and then looked back up at Stiles. “And you? Are you in...trouble?”   
  
Stiles offered her the brightest smile he could manage. “Almost always.”   
  
Lydia sent him half a smile, though she didn’t exactly find any humor in the situation. “I see. Well, then you should probably be careful too. Maybe _you_ should stick close to Allison.” She joked.   
  
He chuckled lightly and looked toward the school. “Yeah, I probably should,” he agreed, even if he had no plans to. “And we should probably head inside before we end up missing part of second period, too.”   
  
Lydia nodded, “We should.” She was silent for a minute before glancing up and smiling, “I guess I’ll see you later.” She said lightly.   
  
“See you in chemistry,” he said with a small smile in return before heading toward the steps.   


______

  
  
Erica pushed open the door and stepped outside of the school her gaze traveling along the parking lot until she spotted who she was looking for. She tugged her backpack awkwardly up onto one shoulder and moved down the stairs heading for the blue jeep that was across the parking lot. Erica picked up her speed when she spotted Stiles reaching for the jeep door, her disheveled ponytail bobbing back and forth as she called out to him, “Stiles.”   
  
He turned at the sound of his name, hearing the footsteps moving quickly toward him even before she said his name. He relaxed when he saw it was Erica and not some hunter he didn’t know. Not that he was becoming paranoid or anything. Except for the fact that he totally was. “Hey,” he greeted with a small smile. She looked kind of worn out, but a lot better than the day she’d looked when she’d had the seizure in the cafeteria.   
  
Erica slowed to a stop in front of him and took a deep breath. “Hi,” she shifted on her feet nervously. “I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk.”   
  
“Yeah, sure.” He nodded, letting his hand fall away from the jeep door handle. “What’s up?”   
  
Erica glanced around them watching as people got into their own cars and others got onto buses. “Uh, well I was sort of wondering,” she paused, “I mean...I know. About you,” she clarified when he sent her a strange look.   
  
He held his breath for a moment at that. “What do you mean? Know...what about me?” Because surely she wasn’t saying she knew he was a _werewolf._ There was no way she could know that. Was there?   
  
“A werewolf,” she whispered not wanting anyone else to hear what she was saying.   
  
All the air left his lungs in a rush and he stared at her with wide eyes. “Do you have a ride home?” he asked, not really sure if she had a car or if she rode the bus or what.   
  
Erica shook her head, “No, I’m not allowed to drive.” She admitted.   
  
Okay, that sucked. He just barely restrained himself from saying so out loud. “Want a ride then?”   
  
A hint of relief crossed Erica’s face, “Sure, thanks.”   
  
Stiles nodded, reaching out and opening his jeep door, climbing into the driver’s side and leaning over to unlock the passenger side door, opening it for her from the inside. He waited until she’d crawled in before starting the engine and chewing his lower lip. How the hell did she know he was a werewolf? Did she know about Scott and Derek, too?   
  
Erica watched Stiles fidget beside her and she cleared her throat. “If you’re wondering how I knew...I talked with Derek,” she said quietly, “And I have a favor to ask.”   
  
At that, Stiles grew completely still. “You know Derek?” And now he knew exactly what this was about and what favor she was about to ask.   
  
Erica hesitated, “Kind of?” She tightened her hands on her backpack that sat in her lap. “Can you really help me? Make all the bad things happening go away with the bite?” She asked her voice quiet.   
  
_Dammit, Derek,_ he thought, tightening his hands on the steering wheel as he drove them away from the school. “It isn’t -- it isn’t that simple, Erica,” he said after a moment, glancing at her sideways. “It doesn’t always take and if it doesn’t, it’ll _kill_ you.”   
  
“I know,” she told him. “And I know about the hunters...the Argents and Gerard our new principal.” Erica shifted in the seat so she was facing Stiles. “I know it’s not all good, but if it took...no more seizures or anything else?” She asked again.   
  
He was going to kick Derek’s little werewolf ass, that was all there was to it. “If it took, I assume that would stop, yeah.” He sighed softly. The only thing he had to base that on was the fact that Scott’s asthma had gone away when he’d become a werewolf, and Stiles no longer needed Adderall.   
  
“Then will you do it? Please?” Erica’s voice shook slightly, “I can’t keep living like this. And if this can help, I’m willing to take the risk.” She said matter-of-factly.   
  
Stiles rubbed a hand over his face, staring at the road and hating the pleading tone in her voice as he turned onto the street her house was on. “I need to think, okay? I’ve never done this before. I mean, I don’t know what Derek’s told you, but I’ve literally only been a werewolf for like...three weeks.” He swallowed hard, glancing at her sideways. “I’m not saying no, I’m just...I’m saying I need to think it through.”   
  
Erica pursed her lips and nodded. “Okay. But you’ll let me know...sometime soon, right?” She asked her knuckles turning white with the force of her grip on her bag.   
  
He pulled into her driveway and shifted the jeep into park before he turned to face her. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I won’t keep you waiting.”   
  
Erica hesitated for a second before resting a hand on his arm. “Thanks Stiles, I really appreciate that.” She said quietly before lifting her hand and pushing open the door. She got out and paused, “Thank you for the ride.”   
  
“Welcome,” he said softly, watching as she headed up to the front door before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He sent Scott a quick message.

_'So how upset will you be if I just killed Derek? Because I’m very, very tempted.'_   
  
Scott had just gotten home when his phone buzzed. He dropped his bag on the floor and pulled it out of his pocket arching an eyebrow at the message from Stiles. He typed out a message telling Stiles to come on over and then slipped it back in his pocket before shaking his head and heading for the stairs mumbling, “What’d you do now Derek,” to himself.   
  
Stiles made it to the McCall house in record time, because he paid exactly zero attention to speed limits. What was anyone going to do about it? Pull over the sheriff’s son and give him a speeding ticket? He doubted it a lot. He left his book bag in the jeep and eyed the front door for a moment before glancing up at Scott’s window on the second floor. What the hell. He bit his lower lip and took a running leap, easily scaling the roof and looking around in amazement. “Holy shit, I’m like _Spider-Man_ without the webs!” He knocked on the window.   
  
Scott smirked and tilted his head back spotting his best friend, “I heard that,” he called out as he lifted his hand and motioned his friend in. “It’s open.”   
  
He slid through the window frame and landed on Scott’s bed with the expertise of someone who’d done that very thing on many occasions. Usually when his mom was home and it was late and one of them couldn’t sleep and they decided to have an all-night video game marathon or something. “I figured. Wolf hearing and all.” He smirked back at Scott.   
  
“Spiderman huh?” He asked amused as he turned his head in his friend’s direction. “So, talk to me. What’s going on? What did Derek do that’s making you have homicidal feelings?”   
  
“Shut up,” Stiles told him good-naturedly before groaning and flopping back on the bed, covering his face with his arm. “Well, apparently he sought out Erica Reyes, told her all about werewolves and informed her that a bite would cure her epilepsy. You know, assuming it doesn’t _kill_ her.”   
  
Scott blinked, “What? Why would he do that?” He sighed, “Occasionally I question Derek’s sanity. Why is he informing random people that werewolves exists when he’s always telling us-well me to keep things quiet?” Scott met Stiles’ gaze, “What is he up to?”   
  
“ _Derek_ thinks I need to build a pack by turning people,” he reminded him, not looking over at him. “So apparently he’s decided to try and get me to do this by using _guilt_.” Which was actually a fairly good way to get under Stiles’ skin apparently, because it was sort of working.   
  
Scott’s expression turned serious, “That’s ridiculous. He can’t do that it’s not fair to you and you don’t need a pack...you have us.” He said brows drawing together. Scott didn’t like the idea of Stiles creating more werewolves. No one should have to deal with the stuff they were forced to deal with.   
  
“I have _you_ ,” Stiles corrected him, rubbing a hand over his eyes.   
  
Scott frowned, “I know Derek isn’t your favorite person at the moment and he’s never really been my favorite person, but I doubt he’d sit back and just let us die.” At least Scott didn’t _think_ he would.   
  
“No, he wouldn’t. But he made no bones about telling me he wasn’t part of our little pack.” He let out a breath.   
  
Scott was silent for a minute. “Well, then we don’t need him.” He reached out a hand and rested it on Stiles’ arm. “You’ve got me.” He said with half a smile.   
  
Stiles was silent for a minute, too, looking up at him with a troubled expression. “And Erica has epilepsy.”   
  
A hint of surprise crossed Scott’s face. “You’re not _actually_ considering this, are you Stiles?” Because Scott was pretty sure he wasn’t okay with that. There were enough wolves in Beacon Hills. No one else’s lives needed to be put in danger.   
  
He sighed and shut his eyes. “You didn’t hear her, Scott. She’s desperate. And it’s not -- I mean it wouldn’t be the same as it was with us. We didn’t ask for this, you know?”   
  
Scott sat up. “Erica has no idea what she’s asking for.” He said shaking his head. “She thinks it’s some great life to fix all of her problems, but we know better. We haven’t even figured out how to deal with Gerard yet and all the other people looking to kill us. And you want to bring someone else into that?”   
  
“Want is a serious overstatement, Scottie,” he said tiredly. “He filled her in on all of that, too.” And even if Derek hadn’t, Stiles sure as hell would have before even considering it.   
  
Scott closed his eyes, “Of course he did...It’s not right.” He said quietly. “But I can’t tell you what to do.” He opened his eyes and watched his friend closely. “This isn’t a decision I can make and if it was you know what mine would be.” He told Stiles simply.   
  
He raked a hand through his hair, tugging at it unconsciously. “Yeah, I know. I know. And I feel like a terrible person for even considering it because of the Argent’s,” he admitted, staring up at the ceiling and feeling way older than a sixteen year old should feel.   
  
Scott sighed, “I know this isn’t easy and regardless of what you decide, you’re my best friend, you know I’ll have your back either way. Just...don’t make any hasty decisions.” He said lightly. “And if I decide to give her the bite, you won’t hate me?” His voice was almost inaudible.   
  
Scott shook his head, “I won’t like it, but I won’t hate you. Dude, I’m not sure I could ever hate you.”   
  
Stiles wondered if he could handle even having Scott’s disapproval hanging over him as he chewed the inside of his cheek. It wouldn’t be the first time, of course. Stiles’ whole life was made up of a series of terrible choices and decisions and terrible, terrible plans that usually ended badly. Yeah. He could live with the disapproval as long as Scott didn’t actually hate him. He nodded slightly at Scott’s words, because he knew there was literally nothing in the world that would ever make him hate Scott and he believed Scott when he voiced the sentiment.   
  
“Okay,” he said quietly.   
  
Scott looked away from him and up at the ceiling, “I was going to do homework, but I’m exhausted.” He commented, “Feel like a couple of rounds of Mario Cart?”   
  
“Dude, I always feel like a couple rounds of Mario Cart.”   
  
Scott grinned, “Cool,” he shifted to grab the controller's, “Get ready to lose.”   
  
Stiles snorted and sat up. “Dream on, dude. Dream _on._ ”   


______

  
  
Allison found herself on the front stoop of the Martin’s mansion after school that day. They hadn’t really talked much about it at school that day, but she knew that Lydia now knew about werewolves, and about her family’s involvement, and she knew they needed to talk. She rang the bell and waited, feeling unusually nervous about seeing her best friend.   
  
Lydia was in the process of grabbing a snack when she heard the bell. She paused in the hallway and glanced at the door wondering briefly who it was before making her way across the floor, her bare feet barely making a noise as she came to a stop in front of the door. Lydia unlocked it and pulled it open half a smile pulling at her lips when she spotted Allison, “Hey.” She said lightly shifting aside and opening the door wider.   
  
Lydia hadn’t seen much of Allison earlier at school and they hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk about things since Stiles saved her the other night.   
  
“Hey.” She smiled softly and stepped inside the house, listening for a moment for signs than her mom was home. When she didn’t hear anything else, she turned to face Lydia. “I thought we should probably talk about everything.”   
  
Lydia nodded, “Probably.” She closed the door and motioned Allison over as she walked back toward the kitchen, “Want a drink?” She asked.   
  
“Sure. Whatever you have is fine,” Allison assured her, following her to the kitchen.   
  
Lydia walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of ice tea, before closing the door and holding it out to Allison. “So, werewolves,” she commented.   
  
“Werewolves,” Allison confirmed, a hint of guilt in her voice. “I swear to you, I’ve only known about all of it for a couple of weeks now myself.”   
  
Lydia nodded as she sat back down at one of the high stools near the island counter instead of the table. She pushed her bowl of tortilla chips and dips in the middle of the island as she spoke, “I know, Stiles mentioned that.” She hesitated before catching her friend’s gaze. “So, how does your family fit into all of this? I mean hunters? Where do you even get a family legacy like that?” Lydia asked.   
  
Allison reached out and popped a salsa-dipped chip into her mouth, chewing and swallowing it before answering. “Apparently it’s so far back in my family line that no one knows the origin story.”   
  
Lydia tilted her head to the side as she reached for a chip. “Huh, I bet we could do some research on it if you wanted,” she offered before biting into her chip and swallowing. “What about you? Has your family inducted you into the family business now that you know?” She asked curiously.   
  
“We’re working on it,” she admitted. “More my dad than my mom. The women in our family are the decision makers. The leaders. The men just sort of do what we tell them to.” She couldn’t help but the way her lips curved upwards.   
  
Lydia snorted, “That’s pretty much the way life should be always. Trust me men in general wouldn’t know what to do without our direction.” She responded with a sigh, but there was a slight grin on her lips. “I talked to Stiles today. He informed me that your grandfather thinks I’m a werewolf, which clearly I’m _not_.”   
  
“Gerard’s…” She wasn’t actually sure how to describe her grandfather. “He’s not like I imagined.” Allison looked down. “Sometimes it feels like he’s just a regular grandpa, but then he starts talking about all of the supernatural things and it’s just...really bizarre. But I know you’re not a werewolf. But for the record, even if you were, I’m okay with it. I mean, Scott’s a werewolf and I’m _dating_ him.”   
  
Lydia’s expression softened slightly and she reached out resting a hand on her best friend’s arm. “I know,” she replied softly, a small smile pulling at her lips. “I appreciate that.” She said honestly. “I’m still not entirely sure I’ve wrapped my head around the whole werewolf thing. I mean I saw Stiles with my own eyes and still,” Lydia’s voice trailed off. “He said it happened not long ago and that Peter did it, but it doesn’t make much sense you know? Why would he do that to Stiles in the first place?” Lydia shook her head, knowing she was probably missing some information.   
  
Allison’s eyebrows furrowed. “He didn’t tell you?” There was genuine confusion in her voice.   
  
Lydia’s brows furrowed, “Tell me what?”   
  
“Peter turned him the night of the winter formal,” she said, shaking her head. “Right after…” She paused. “Right after he attacked you on the field that night. He kidnapped Stiles and locked him in that underground subway station.”   
  
Lydia’s eyes widened, her chest tightening, “I don’t understand...why? Because Stiles stopped him from killing me? God I don’t even know the guy. What could I have possibly done that he wanted me dead so badly?” Lydia inquired, her voice wavering the slightest bit.   
  
“I don’t -- I don’t know, Lydia,” she said looking worried. “I don’t think it was necessarily about you at all. I know that Peter apparently really wanted Scott in his pack.”   
  
Lydia swallowed hard a hint of relief filling her face, “So it wasn’t my fault then,” she said some of the tension leaving her body. “Because Stiles doesn’t seem too happy about the whole werewolf thing, not that I blame him,” she added. “But I’d hate thinking it was my fault that he’s something he doesn’t want to be.” Her words were soft.   
  
Lydia didn’t know Stiles very well despite the fact that they’d probably been going to school together for as long as she could remember. But he’d been nice to her, more than once. He made her feel like it was okay to be herself at the formal, he saved her life twice, and he’d brought her flowers in the hospital. He was a good guy and Lydia genuinely felt bad that he seemed to be hurting.   
  
“Lydia, of course it wasn’t your fault. The only one to blame here is Peter.” She paused, knowing that wasn’t entirely true. “And my Aunt Kate.” She looked down. “But they’re both dead now.” Her voice grew quieter. “Stiles didn’t want this. Neither did Scott. But...there’s nothing we can do to change how things are. All we can do is try to help them figure things out now. And help keep my family from going after them.”   
  
Lydia nodded, “I’m all for that plan.” She told her friend, “We need a way to distract them from Stiles and Scott or to make them stop hunting them all together. We’re teenagers. I can’t imagine that they’re much of a threat. What do you know about the hunters in your family? Anything we can use to our advantage?” Lydia asked while leaning forward and eating another chip.   
  
“I think my dad is going to be easier to get through to than my mom, which isn’t surprising.” Allison grabbed another chip, as well, looking contemplative. “But as far as threats go…” She looked at Lydia. “Stiles and Scott aren’t really much of a threat because they’re good guys. But -- just because they’re teenagers doesn’t mean they can’t be dangerous. Not them, but others.”   
  
Lydia sent her a thoughtful look, “Well there aren’t any others are there? And of course Stiles and Scott are good, they can control it right? The werewolf thing?” She asked wondering if Allison knew any more than she did.   
  
“Scott definitely can. Stiles is new? And I don’t know if there are others. I mean, aside from Derek. But he’s not a teenager.”   
  
Lydia sighed, “Stiles mentioned him too,” she commented. “Does Stiles being new affect it? Does that mean he can’t control it?” She asked not really sure how it all worked just yet.   
  
“I think it’s harder for new wolves to control themselves. At least for awhile, according to my dad and the journals I’ve been reading.”   
  
Lydia frowned. “I’m sure Scott is probably helping him then,” she responded her tone light. But a part of her wanted to make sure Stiles knew if he needed help he could come to her too. She hesitated, “Can I ask you a mildly strange question?”   
  
“Yeah, I’m sure he is. Those two are practically joined at the hip.” Allison smiled. “Yeah, what’s up?”   
  
“Do you have Stiles’ number?” Lydia glanced down and brushed her hand over the dress she wore smoothing the material out. “I know we’ve all spent some time together recently, but I never bothered to grab it.” She explained as she glanced up catching her best friends gaze.   
  
“Oh.” A surprised expression flickered over Allison’s face. “Yeah. Hang on.” She pulled her phone out of her purse and flipped through her contacts list. She texted Lydia with the number quickly.   
  
Lydia’s phone vibrated on the island in front of them and she smiled. “Thanks,” she said lightly lifting her phone and saving the number. “So, is all of this it? Is there anything I need to know? Are there vampires running through the woods too,” she joked.   
  
“If there are vampires, no one’s told me about them,” she said with a short laugh. “And I haven’t come across anything about vampires in the journals my dad’s letting me read.”   
  
Lydia’s lip quirked at the corner, “I was kidding,” she admitted, “But that’s good to know. I’d hate to be surprised one night while wandering randomly around the woods,” since apparently that was something she did now.   
  
“Wandering randomly in the woods is probably not the best plan in this town,” Allison admitted.   
  
Lydia nodded, “Tell me about it,” she told her. “Unfortunately it seems I’m not always in control of whether or not I’m wandering through the woods at night.” She explained.   
  
Allison furrowed her brows, “Has that ever happened before?”   
  
Lydia shook her head. “No,” she admitted. “It was strange. First I had no clue how I got there and then instead of going back once I snapped out of it, it was like...something was drawing me forward and that’s when I found the body.” She explained a slight shiver running down her spine, the image still permanently etched into her mind.   
  
Allison reached out and gave Lydia’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know what that all means, but...I’m gonna help you figure it out. Okay?”   
  
Lydia smiled, “Thanks,” she said softly before shaking her bad mood off. “So, we could spend the rest of the night talking about creepy werewolf things or we could eat chips and watch a movie. I’ve gotta say I’m leaning towards that option,” Lydia said lightly.   
  
“I’m not turning down more chips _or_ a movie,” the brunette agreed.   
  
Lydia grinned, “Then lets move this party to living room and get a break from all this crazy stuff,” she said brightly hopping off the stool and grabbing the bowl of chips.   
  
Allison smiled fondly and then followed her. A night off from all the werewolf stuff sounded like a great plan to her.   


______

  
  
Stiles made his way to the motel on Route 27. The place was about as seedy looking as it got, and finding Derek had been way too easy. He should’ve found a better place to stay for more reasons than one. But that wasn’t why he was there. He had a bone to pick with Derek tonight.   
  
He knocked on the door, folding his arms across his chest as he waited with his mouth set in a grim line.   
  
Derek looked up from his position on the motel room bed and sighed. He’d expected a visit from Stiles; it wasn’t like he was hiding, but it was going to be a pain nonetheless. He shifted dropping his feet to the ground and standing in one fluid motion. Derek made his way over to the door, gripped the handle and pulled it open. He leaned against the door and cocked his head to the side. “I expected you a few hours ago,” he commented lightly.   
  
Stiles didn’t smile as he moved past him and inside the motel room. “When I said I’d think about what you said, I didn’t mean that it was the okay for you to start telling people that I’d turn them, Derek.”   
  
Derek closed the door, “Why yes, please come in.” He said before turning to face Stiles. He was silent for a minute before speaking. “I didn’t say you’d turn them,” He paused, “I merely suggested that asking could lead to a possible bite.”   
  
He glared at him. “And you don’t think that a vulnerable teenage girl with _epilepsy_ might take that as a virtual promise? What the hell, Derek?” he demanded. “Seriously. I’d really love to know what’s going on in your head right now. Or whenever you talked to Erica.” He gestured with one hand. “You should have come to _me_. Not her.”   
  
Derek lifted an eyebrow, “I did come to you. I spoke with you first,” he pointed out, “And Erica knows the situation. I told her you weren’t exactly on board with the idea. So if you choose to say no she’ll understand.” He said with a shrug, “And Erica was one of the people I vetted because the bite can actually _help_ improve her quality of life.” He explained as he stepped away from the door.   
  
“You were concerned about dragging someone into this life and saying all these things about not wanting to ruin someone’s life so I found someone whose life it would make better.”   
  
He groaned, wanting to beat his head against the wall. “I meant you should have come to me about Erica, specifically without going to her first. Do you honestly not see how this is incredibly manipulative, man?” He shook his head. “Wait. Wait. _One_ of the people? There are more people that are going to be showing up to ask me for the bite?” God he hoped Derek was joking.   
  
Derek pursed his lips. “You seem angry.” He pointed to himself, “I was trying to be helpful and for the record one person a pack does not make.” Derek paused studying Stiles’ expression for a moment, “There might be a couple of people.” He added.   
  
“You think?” Stiles snapped. “This isn’t what I meant when I agreed to you helping me. Like, at all. This is the farthest thing from what I meant. So now not only have you told a bunch of people that I’m a _werewolf_ but what, they’re all hoping I can cure them from life-altering diseases?” He rubbed his hands over his face and dropped onto the edge of the mattress. “How many is a couple, exactly?”   
  
Derek huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. “Three people,” he responded, “And only Erica has a life-altering disease. The other two have...different situations. And I didn’t tell a whole bunch of people. I would never risk letting more people know about us if I didn’t think it was safe to share the information,” Derek said pointedly.   
  
“And how do you know that they’re trustworthy enough that if I say no, they aren’t going to start talking to everyone they know and telling them?” He shut his eyes. God. Talk about going from bad to worse. And he still had to try and figure out whatever was going on with Lydia. He leaned over resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor, trying to figure out what to do.   
  
Derek frowned, “I realize you don’t trust me, and you probably don’t think I’d bat an eye about risking your life or Scott’s, but do you think I’d risk my own life to help you build a pack?” He dropped his hands down and pursed his lips. “Look I did what you weren’t willing to do and if you still don’t want to do this they’ll expect that.” He told him.   
  
“You seem particularly distracted tonight, are you seriously this upset about Erica coming to ask for the bite?”   
  
Truthfully he hadn’t even been sure Derek had admitted _he_ was a werewolf to them at all, but he didn’t say that. He glanced at him over his shoulder, pursing his lips. “That and the dead body that Lydia stumbled upon in the woods last night that was cut in half. Oh, and the whole her getting shot by hunters right after. It was a flesh wound, thankfully, but they obviously think she’s a werewolf.”   
  
Derek frowned, “Why would they think that? She never turned on the full moon. She’s clearly not a werewolf, we would have known. _I_ would have known.” He said as he leaned against the dresser. “And what body did she find?” Derek knew the hunters were out there searching for wolves, but he hadn’t thought there were any outside of them in town.   
  
“Because she was bitten by an alpha and she survived,” Stiles pointed out. “That’s not exactly normal. And yeah, she’s definitely not a werewolf, but they think she’s one, apparently.” He exhaled and then shook his head. “And I don’t know whose body it was. When I went looking it was already gone.” They’d gotten rid of it, gotten rid of the evidence. There’d been the faint smell of blood, but that was all he could find.   
  
Derek’s jaw clenched, “They’re getting bolder,” he commented. “And if they killed someone it was most likely a wolf, probably an Omega coming to look into the new alpha,” he told Stiles, “But obviously that never happened.” He shook his head. “This is the reason you need a pack and if you’re that worried about Lydia, we’ll make sure she’s safe.” He said with only half an eyeroll.   
  
He flinched at that. At the idea that a wolf had wandered into town because of _him_ , and now was dead because of it. His shoulders slumped a little and he shut his eyes, facing away from Derek once more. What if the next time, the hunters went after _Scott?_ And what if he couldn’t protect Scott from meeting the same fate? He felt sick to his stomach.   
  
Derek was silent for a minute before pointing to Stiles, “What is that? What’s that look on your face?” He asked uncertain of why Stiles was being so quiet. He’d rather the teenager yell at him then sit there silently like some kind of morose puppy.   
  
“It’s my pensive face,” he responded sullenly, rubbing a hand over his neck. “I’m thinking, trying to make a decision about Erica. And trying to decide if it’s fair to her if I give her the bite mostly for selfish reasons when there are hunters out there who’d kill her in a heartbeat if they were to find out.” How the hell did you get to a point where you were okay with making that kind of choice?   
  
Derek nodded. “If you decide to do it I will help you protect her. I will help you protect them all. I know it isn’t easy, but the hunters are going to keep coming no matter what and right now you’re just not strong enough to keep them at bay for long. It’s an observation not a judgment,” he added quickly.   
  
“But isn’t more wolves just going to mean more people are in danger _from_ the hunters who just keep coming? I mean, what are we supposed to do about that?” He shook his head.   
  
Derek tilted his head, “I’d answer that, but I’m not sure you want to hear the answer,” he admitted honestly. “The hunters are supposed to have a code, but with Gerard here...I’m not sure they do anymore.”   
  
Stiles looked at him again. “You want to _kill_ them.” It wasn’t a question. It was pretty clear what Derek was implying. He rose to his feet, feeling overwhelmed for more reasons than one. He’d killed Peter, but it hadn’t been _intentional._ He’d just wanted to keep him from hurting Scott. But intentionally killing people? He didn’t think he had that in him.   
  
“I don’t _want_ to kill anyone. But I’m not going to sit here and let them kill me either,” Derek said with a sigh as he watched Stiles pace. “We need to find a way to get Gerard out of town. Once we accomplish that I think the hunters will back down.” He offered.   
  
“Yeah well considering he’s taken a new job as the principal at Beacon Hills High, I kinda doubt that’s going to be an easy task.” He sighed and continued to pace.   
  
Derek grunted, “I doubt I have to tell you how not good that is.” He replied his tone light. “I’d say the solution is killing Gerard, but I feel like that might just make things worse,” he said.   
  
“Murder tends to have that effect,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his cheek.   
  
Derek’s brows lifted, “Maybe you should I don’t know, calm down or something. You’re pacing quite a bit. Take a deep breath and I don’t know...let off some steam?” He suggested with a shrug.   
  
“I tend to pace when I’m thinking.” He’d always assumed it was an Adderall-related thing, but apparently it was just a Stiles thing in general. But he knew Derek was right. He was wound tightly and he needed to do _something_. “I think I’m gonna go for a run.” He headed for the door.   
  
Derek turned, “Not in the woods hopefully, it’s dangerous for people like us out there.” He was quiet as he scratched the back of his neck. “Do you want company?” He asked with an arched brow, his question hesitant.   
  
“No, not the woods. I was thinking the track at school.” He paused, glancing at him and considering. “Yeah. Why not?”   
  
Derek nodded and walked over to the small round table in the motel, grabbing his keys and cell phone. He pocketed them and then glanced at Stiles nodding to the door. “I’ll follow you out,” he told him.   
  
“We’ll see if you can keep up.” Stiles smirked at him and headed out of the motel room.   


______

  
  
Erica sat quietly in the seat beside Stiles as he drove them down the practically empty road. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but his expression gave nothing away. He had called her about a half hour earlier, asked if she had some free time and once she said ‘yes’, then Stiles told her he’d be by to pick her up soon.   
  
Erica wasn’t entirely sure what to say to him or what he was thinking. He’d told her they were heading somewhere quiet and she hoped it was because he was going to agree to give her the bite, but she honestly wasn’t sure if he would. Erica let out a soft sigh as she brushed a hand over her knee. “You’re quiet,” she commented her voice low.   
  
A tiny smile touched his mouth. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s said that about me. Ever, actually,” he told her, glancing at her sideways before looking at the road once more and chewing on his lower lip as he drove them toward the park at the edge of town. “How are you feeling?”   
  
Erica glanced at Stiles with half a smile. “I’ve been okay,” she said with a shrug. “Tired and stuff, but that’s normal.” She admitted. “How are you?”   
  
He nodded slightly, parking his jeep in the empty parking lot a couple moments later. “I thought it was probably time for you and I to talk about things,” he admitted, turning in the seat to face her. “I know you and Derek talked about stuff, but...I need to make sure you understand what you’d be getting into with this.”   
  
Erica nodded and turned so she was facing him. “Okay,” she said quietly, “Is there more than what Derek told me?” She asked curiously.   
  
“I’m assuming he told you that our new school principal is a werewolf hunter. And that his whole family are also werewolf hunters.”   
  
Erica swallowed hard and nodded, “Yes, he mentioned that.” She admitted. “He’s--he’s related to Allison right?” She asked trying to remember what Derek had told her.   
  
“Her grandpa, yeah. But Allison is at least on our side.” He gazed at her. “But there are other hunters lingering in town too, not just Argent’s. And a werewolf -- we don’t know who it was and we may never know who it was -- was killed by hunters just a few nights ago.”   
  
Erica bit her lower lip. “I know it’s dangerous to be like you. And there are probably a ton of reasons why I should run as far as I can from all of this...but I don’t want to. I don’t want to be like this anymore,” she said a lump forming in her throat.   
  
Stiles closed his eyes. “If you reject the bite, Erica, you’ll die.” His voice was quiet.   
  
Erica nodded. “He mentioned that.” She was silent for a minute, “Do you know if there are certain kinds of people who take the bite better than others? Like maybe having a certain gene or I don’t know...something?” She asked softly.   
  
He looked at her and shook his head. “No. I honestly have no idea why it works on some people and not on others. It’s a risk. Are you at peace with that possibility?” Because the idea that he could possibly kill her was terrifying to him.   
  
Erica watched Stiles for a minute before taking a deep breath and nodding. “I am. And, Stiles, if you do this and it doesn’t work, that’s not your fault.” She told him, “It’s mine. I want this and _I’m_ willing to risk it.”   
  
He sighed softly, studying her intently and not detecting a change in her heartbeat. She wasn’t lying. She was really willing and ready to take the risk. How could he say no when she obviously really did want this? He chewed his lower lip for a moment and then nodded. “It’s also going to hurt. Like a lot.” His voice was quiet. It had been a lot more painful than when he’d fallen out of a tree when he was ten and broken his arm.   
  
Erica inhaled deeply, but inclined her head so he would know she heard him. “How long will it take before we know if the bite took?” She asked quietly, nervous, but certain in her decision.   
  
“Less than twenty-four hours,” he told her, searching her eyes. “I can stay with you. I mean, if you want.”   
  
Erica smiled, “I’d like that, I mean if you’re sure you can.” She added quickly, “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”   
  
Stiles returned the smile with one of his own. “I’ll just text my dad and tell him I’m staying at Scott’s.” He paused. “I’m assuming you know about Scott, too.”   
  
Erica nodded, “Yeah, Derek mentioned him too. And I promise I won’t say anything, I mean obviously. And if it doesn’t work, well I guess you won’t have to worry about me saying anything,” she told him with a one armed shrug.   
  
He winced at that. “I’d really very strongly prefer it worked, Erica,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to die. So you know. Please don’t.”   
  
Erica laughed softly, her face warming as she glanced down. “Well it’s not like I _want_ to die. I mean I hope it works. So, if there’s something I can do to make it work I’d do that, whatever the thing is I mean.” She paused and glanced at Stiles, “You know what I mean right?”   
  
Stiles grinned, nodding. “Yeah, I get what you mean. But as far as I know it’s just sort of random. I don’t think there’s anything we can do to make your odds better. So we’ll just. You know cross our fingers and say our prayers and everything.”   
  
Erica lifted an eyebrow. “Okay, so...that means you’re going to do it.” She bit her bottom lip, “Are we doing it here?” She asked not sure why her voice had gotten lower. She was pretty sure they were the only two people around.   
  
“Are you okay with that?” he asked quietly. “We can wait if you want to think about it more. Or if you just don’t want to do it tonight. There’s no pressure here, Erica.”   
  
Erica angled her head to the side. “No, I do want to do it tonight I just wasn’t sure, I mean if we were doing it in the car or if there’s some kind of special way, which now that I’ve said it sounds pretty weird so I’ll just be quiet.” She said sheepishly resting her fidgety hands in her lap.   
  
“It doesn’t sound weird. I mean, no weirder than werewolves actually being a real thing sounds,” he told her, hesitantly holding his hand out to her.   
  
Erica reached out and took Stiles’ hand. “My arm? Is that where you’re doing it?” She asked wanting to know.   
  
“Yeah. I mean unless you have a place preference for somewhere else.” And wow did that sound...not how he meant for it to sound. “Uh. Peter bit me in the side. Same with Scott. I’m kinda hoping it’ll be less painful if it’s on the arm.”   
  
Erica’s eyes were wide. “Uh the arm is fine.” She said trying not to blush at his comment since she knew Stiles didn’t mean it the way it sounded.   
  
Stiles drew in a breath even as his own cheeks colored. “Right okay.” He took her arm gently in his hand, staring at the pale, smooth skin for a long moment. “Are you ready?”   
  
“I’m ready,” Erica said as she watched his eyes glowed red.


End file.
